the summer

standing surrounded by books in a narrow aisle. old man smelling like marlboros says to me, "move on over" or "have you read the new Grisham?" then, is her hair blue or grey? we take bets in the backroom and exchange stories. did you see him jacking off to the fitness books? i caught him so red in the face, zipped up his pants and he was gone, only to return with an envelope addressed to The Library, inside was a check for 500 dollars. on the bottom it read, "for my shame." we never saw him again all summer long. he has three overdue books. his name was henry. horny henry, we call him now. but we haven't seen him since.

there is a julia roberts at our library. she checks out true crime and classic horror films. her son reads manga and is trying to learn japanese. i offer to tutor him on wednesday nights. he accepts. i find myself attracted to him. he's 17. i'm 21. i think about what the meals are like in prison, and if they have a special vegetarian option. i decide not to take a chance, even though that is clearly his hand on my thigh. i hide my smile.

someone rips off the library everyday. i find the security stickers stuck on the undersides of the bookshelves. we close down for three days and do an inventory. nothing is missing. we re-open with a pizza party. they forget to order cheese, so i eat cheetohs from the machine. i almost get oreos and then remember at the last second i can't eat those, either.

sometimes there are librarian barbeques but i'm never invited. there are three vegetarians there and they never invite us. instead we go to the church events together. one saturday, they have a huge pet show. there is a turtle race and a hamster scuttle. there is a dog show where you dress up your dog in costume and give him a personality and make him talk. "hello, i'm mister chuckles." we all laugh. he wins. blue ribbon.

i hand out gold stars and curly straws to the summer reading program kids. a single father asks me out on a date. he says i remind him of his wife. the one that left him for the biker. he takes me out for frozen yogurt but we have to go to chuck e. cheese first, because he can't find a sitter till 8pm. i don't mind. he tries to kiss me in his car in front of my house, but i tell him, "this can't get serious." he understands and asks me to babysit for jeanene and carlos. i promise i will but i never do.

at the end of the summer, right before classes start again, they throw me a going away party. they remember to order the cheese this time and they take three whole rolls of pictures of me smiling and giving a speech. they say what they always say, "diana, i can't wait for you to come back to promote your book." and i shrug, because i doubt that will ever happen. i don't plan on writing a mystery or about finding the titanic. i'm more into writing about quiet girls that like books and listen to The Cure on vinyl, who never have boyfriends. i want to write the next: the perks of being a wallflower or weetzie bat or the exes. i probably will just end up writing a memoir since i'm best at nostalgia anyways.

i'll probably put a picture of me riding a horse on the cover to throw people off that it's about me. because i don't even like horses.  
¶ 4:55 AM |